light me up (when i'm down)
by AndKatnissRaisedHerBow
Summary: Follow up for "maybe we're meant to lose the ones we love" as requested. Can be read as a companion piece or standalone. Oliver's POV.


**a/n: The response to 'maybe we're meant' was far better than I expected, and so here's the follow up that several of you guys requested. I was unsure about trying to get into Oliver's head, but it was fun to play around with. I hope you guys enjoy it :)**

**Fandom: Arrow**  
><strong>Pairing: OliverFelicity**  
><strong>Word Count: 1,697<strong>  
><strong>Follow up for <strong>_**maybe we're meant to lose the ones we love (but I'll fight for you 'til then)**_  
><strong>Title taken from "<strong>_**Light Me Up"**_** by The Pretty Reckless**

He could replay it a hundred times in his head, but Oliver would never be sure exactly how it happened. One second he was listening to Felicity's easy voice, joyful and teasing in his ear. It sent a warmth through him that only she could cause, along with the lazy smile that graced his lips, unstoppable and feeling so natural that Oliver didn't think he could've locked it down if he'd wanted to.

He glanced down for a split second, shaking his head in amusement at her enthusiastic babbling, and when he looked up all he saw was a bright light surging towards him and the deafening sound of a car horn. The impact was so forceful that it threw him backwards, his body skidding and scraping against the unforgiving pavement as his bike screeched at being suffered the same treatment. There was a short moment of blinding pain before the world around him blurred to black.

He came to with a weak groan, and fought his eyes open. The first thing he saw was his comm link lying several inches away. Oliver wanted to reach out and grab it, tell Digg what happened or let Felicity know they probably wouldn't be making it to Big Belly Burger tonight, but when he tried he found that his arm was trapped beneath his body. It probably should've been painful, but Oliver only felt numbness from his fingertips to his shoulder.

Mind fuzzy, he took a quick stock of his injuries. In addition to his arm, his right leg was bent at an unnatural angle, looking like a rubber doll leg that had been snapped at the joint. His back screamed in pain from being forced across the asphalt, and if his difficulty breathing was any indication, his ribs had taken a blow, too.

He spied the car a few feet away, nose-first in the ditch, smoke spilling out of the hood and the radio still playing some classic rock station with a loud DJ. The driver, a middle-aged man with dark hair and a baseball cap, was slumped in his seat. Dead or unconscious, Oliver didn't know. He'd probably been on his way home, visiting someone or hitting the grocery store for eggs and milk before it closed for the night. Maybe he had a family waiting for him or friends with plans to meet him for breakfast the next morning. Oliver found himself hoping for their sakes that the guy would be alright.

He was so busy looking for signs of life in the stranger that he didn't hear the approaching vehicle until it was several yards behind him, pulling off onto the shoulder behind the upended car. Oliver panicked for a brief second, remembering he was still dressed as the Arrow with no way to stop anyone from pulling back the hood and seeing who he really was. The panic faded, though, when Diggle stepped into his line of sight. Breathing the smallest sigh of relief, all he could manage at the moment, Oliver gave in and let his eyes fall shut again.

Before he fell into the darkness again, he heard the strangled sound that escaped Digg; half sigh, half gasp, before the telltale click of the comms sounded and then Digg was speaking,

"Felicity, he's breathing."

The next time Oliver awoke, it was in the foundry. He recognized the whirring of the computers and the familiar dank draft, a tension he didn't know he'd been holding draining out of him at the knowledge that he was somewhere safe.

The second thing he noticed was that his body didn't hurt. His arm was no longer rammed underneath his body and the pressure in his chest had subsided, a blissful painlessness settled over him and made his body feel almost as heavy as his mind, hazy and unfocused.

Forcing his eyes open took more effort than Oliver would admit, but when he did he realized that it had to have been quite some time since Diggle found him. The foundry looked as it always did, the lights were turned down so that the only real illumination came from the computer screens littering the tables. Looking for some further indication of the time, Oliver came up empty; his eyes finding Digg's dozing form slumped over the arm of the couch on the far side of the room instead.

It was only then that he noticed the weight on his hand. A small noise came from his right side and Oliver turned towards it, letting his head loll to the side on the hard surface of the medbay table. His lips twitched up in the tiniest smile when he saw Felicity seated at his side, his hand clutched between both of hers like it was the only thing tying him to this world and it was her sole responsibility to keep him there.

Her eyes, usually bright and so alive, were bleary and tired, ringed by dark shadows and the glasses that sat askew on her nose. Those eyes blazed with a combination of hope and desperation as they snapped up to his face, suddenly alert as ever, before shifting into something gentler and soothing, lips quirking in a small smile to match.

"Hey," Felicity's voice was hoarse with sleep, cheek baring the imprint of their fingers from where she'd fallen asleep resting against them. One of her hands abandoned his to rub her eyes, then dropping to his waist to play with a few fraying threads on his waistband. Oliver watched, not feeling the need to speak, just watched as she studied him, her fingers straying to brush against the bare skin of his hips where his jacket and t-shirt had been removed.

"How long?" was his eventual question, voice startling her just slightly, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. Her expression was weighed down, but relieved somehow and her fingers continued their dance, abandoning the fabric all together and moving to ghost across his skin, drawing abstract shapes on the area just below the tiered ink.

"A couple hours," came Felicity's reply, her voice straining to sound lighter than she could manage in that moment. "Digg, he brought you back and we, uh, we didn't think you were gonna make it, Oliver." She stopped talking, emotion overcoming her usual ability to rambled on and not for the first time Oliver wished she would keep speaking, keep letting her words wash over him, disarming and calming him in that way that only she could.

Her gaze dropped from his and Oliver squeezed the hand was still twined with his, grateful she had been clinging to his good arm. The hopeless look of fear and abandonment she tried to hide made his heart clench, wanting more than anything to take it away.

"I'm okay, Felicity. I'm not going anywhere," His thumb traced the side of her hand up to her wrist, coasting over any expanse of skin he could reach. Oliver resisted the urge to reach up to cup her face in his hand or brush away the stray falls of blonde that hung around her face, doubting he had the strength to do so. Her eyes were misty, breath quickening just slightly and he squeezed her hand again.

"Hey, I'm right here." It was meant to sound strong and sure, but came out as hardly more than a whisper. Her eyes found his again, though, and Oliver let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Felicity watched him again, studying all of him like she was trying to commit him to memory lest he slip away from her. The hand on his hip raised and Oliver missed the warmth and tingle immediately. She reached out like she was aiming for his face, but stopped short and dropped her fingers to his shoulder instead, trailing it up and down his arm in slow ministrations. Oliver was so lost in the feel of her skin against his, even in the most innocent of ways, that he almost didn't hear her quiet voice.

"I heard it, you know. When you, um, when the car-" Felicity swallowed, taking a short moment to try and steel herself, eyes falling from Oliver's and landing on her hand again, watching the movements as if they weren't her own. "You were laughing one second and then there was just this god awful noise, it was so _loud_. And then it wasn't anymore, it was quiet and I- I couldn't hear you breathing, and geez that sounds creepy but you know what I mean. I listened and I knew that your comm had probably been lost but I just couldn't hear anything from you. I was sure that you were-"Her breath shuddered as she inhaled, unable to bring herself to say the words out loud. "I was so scared, Oliver."

He watched her, sitting there beside him and running her fingers over his arm as if to assure herself that he was still there, still alive and breathing. She looked so broken, so unlike the lively and vibrant Felicity he knew, eyes rimmed red and her blue dress all wrinkled.

Her name fell from his lips, a plea and a promise and a benediction all at once. He found the strength in himself to bring their twined hands up, pressing his lips to her knuckles and the length of her fingers and the side of her wrist and any of the soft pale skin he could find.

Oliver didn't have the chance to say anything more before Digg woke, stepping up to them and helping him down from the hard medbay table to guide him to the cot tucked away in a dark corner of the foundry.

None of them said anything as Digg headed back to the couch, nabbing a blanket on his way and Felicity lowered herself onto the cot beside Oliver, tucking herself into his side with his good arm draped around her waist.

With her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck and the scent of cherry blossoms enveloping him, Oliver let his eyes drift closed and succumbed to the darkness for the third time that night.


End file.
